Congressional “Twas The Night Before Christmas”"Twas the week before Christmas and those sly little elves,
Our congressmen, labored to better themselves.
They cared not a whit what the public might think
"Let them eat cake," some said with a wink.
And putting their thumbs to the tip of their nose,
they waved as they shouted "Anything goes!"
They scoffed at the thought that we might object,
to a tax cut for the wealthy of a posh percent.
They've got prerequisites-franking, per diem, and more --
bargain-priced haircuts and gyms (three or four!)
Paid speaking engagements and meals on the cuff,
celebrity status -- (they've sure got it tough!),
Yet they claim they're in touch with the man on the street,
as John Q. Public struggles to make both ends meet.
If all workers decided what they were due,
they'd be getting those fat paychecks too!
But while we take cutbacks or raises quite small,
and one out of 20 has no job at all,
our millionaire Congress decides on the budget
land trimming Medicare and Medicaid will do it, they say.
In this season for giving, our Congress is taking.
We've had it with them and our backs are breaking.
With hard times, disasters, and layoffs on our dockets,
we bit the bullet and they fill their pockets!
Oh jobless, oh homeless, oh desperate and needy -
dare anyone say our Congress is greedy?
If in this feeling I'm not alone,
take up your pen or pick up your phone.
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
let the road of your anger mount to the sky.
Indignant, outraged, appalled and beset
let your congressman know that you won't forget!
When election times comes -- and certain it will --
you're voting him out for passing that bill.
More rapid than eagles, their elections assured
they toasted each other and laughed at the herd.
And I heard them exclaim with adjournment at hand,
"Merry Christmas to us, and the public be damned!
The Day After Christmas'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house
Children sat slack-jawed, bored on the couch.
Wrappings and toys littered the floor,
An incredible mess that I did abhor.
With Mom in her robe and I in my jeans,
We waded in to get the place clean.
When suddenly the doorbell: it started to clatter,
I sprang to the Security-View to check out the matter.
The new-fallen snow, now blackened with soot,
Was trampled and icy and treacherous to foot.
But suddenly in view, did I gasp and pant:
An unhappy bill collector and eight tiny accountants.
The door flew open and in they came,
Stern-looking men with bills in my name.
On Discover, on Visa, on American Express,
On Mastercard too, I sadly confess,
Right to my limits, then beyond my net worth,
Over the top I had charged, in a frenzy of mirth.
The black-suited men, so somber, so strict,
I wondered why me that they had first picked.
They stared at me with a look I couldn't miss,
That said "Buddy, when are you for paying for this?"
I shrugged my shoulders, but then I grew bolder,
Went to the cabinet and pulled out a folder.
"As you can see," I said with a smile,
"It's bankruptcy that I'll have to file!"
And with a swoop of my arm, my middle digit extended
I threw the bills in the fire: the matter had ended.
The scent of burnt ash came to my nose,
As up the chimney my credit-worthiness rose.
Without another word they turned and walked out,
Got into their limos, but one gave a shout:
"You may think that's the answer to all of your fears,
But it's nothing you'll charge for at least seven years!